Theatrical Flirtations
by Skye Highwind
Summary: The first time Hawkeye saw him, it was in a dinky little theatre house downtown. Honestly, the orange haired pirate couldn't remember why he had even been there in the first place – he usually hated plays and musicals, but perhaps it was Mikhail's insistence.


I am in love with Eckhart, I'll be frank. I love writing him too.

**Warning(s):** Homosexual relationship? [Hawkeye/Eckhart]

* * *

The first time Hawkeye saw him, it was in a dinky little theatre house downtown. Honestly, the orange haired pirate couldn't remember _why_ he had even been there in the first place – he usually hated plays and musicals, but perhaps it was Mikhail's insistence.

He hadn't been expected to actually be _interested _in the play. And by in the play, he meant the_starring actor_.

Because even with his shitty seat, and being half-asleep, his eyes caught onto the man with black hair and gold eyes. He had an air about him – that he really, and honestly cared about what he was performing … And from that moment, he was probably a bit smitten.

How could he not? The man on the stage was pouring his heart into his craft, and he was so _beautiful_, that even the pristine woman next to him was but a dull gray. And in that moment, Hawkeye couldn't believe that someone like him was in a place like … this.

When the play finished, Hawkeye took one of the playbills, intent on finding out who this man really was. He found one name – _Eckhart_. A decidedly simple name, but what he needed nonetheless.

Mikhail seemed honestly puzzled by Hawkeye's sudden interest in the performing arts, but he was elated all the same. He took the elder man to all sorts of plays – romances, tragedies, musicals … Sometimes Eckhart was performing, sometimes he wasn't.

Hawkeye had realized exactly what sort of plays Eckhart was more likely to be in – he had a knack for tragedies, it seemed. Sometimes he saw the man in romances, but more often than not, it was a tragedy where he shined.

So he was decidedly excited when Eckhart was announced to be the lead of a popular romantic tragedy – and really, he bought a ticket close to the front.

Hawkeye was positively stunned by the man's performance, and it was only halfway through. The man had poured so much emotion into his acting, but when it came time for the confession scene…

He was surprised when the man's golden eyes drifted up to him, and a slight flush graced his cheeks. His ears caught a slip up in his acting – a slight hesitancy in his voice, although he managed to play it off as an intentional portrayal.

So Eckhart may have some feelings for him as well.

When the show finished, Hawkeye clapped like any respectable person. He hung around the theatre for a bit after the show, talking to a few frequenters – Irina and him managed to go to the same shows no matter what, so he had a nice conversation with her before she left. He was about to leave when someone came up to him – a woman with short black hair and round glasses.

"You're Hawkeye, aren't you?" She asked, pushing up her glasses by the middle.

"Uh, yeah? Who're you?" He said in return, scratching the back of his neck.

"My name is Lana. My client, Eckhart, wants to see you," she – Lana – said rather plainly. She turned on her heel and began walking away.

Hawkeye blinked rapidly, before rushing after her. What the hell was going on here?

They stopped in front of a plain door, and Lana knocked on it.

"Eckhart? He's here. Are you dressed?" She asked clearly, although her voice was a lot more gentler than it had been with Hawkeye a few minutes ago.

"What- Oh, right, right. Hold on for a second," came the muffled voice. There was a rustling, before the door opened and …

_Damn_. Hawkeye had to admit that he was even more attractive _out_ of costume than in it. His black hair was a bit mussed up, most likely from changing, and he was dressed in rather comfortable clothing – a black button-up shirt and a pair of black slacks. Behind him, he could see the costume hanging neatly on a hook.

"You can leave, Lana. Thank you for getting him." His voice was sincere, but Lana simply nodded and walked away. The smaller man stepped aside to let Hawkeye walk into the room, and he did.

"Just take a seat on the couch, I'll get you some coffee," Eckhart said steadily, walking over to the machine in the corner. Hawkeye had to stop himself from staring after the man, and busied himself with looking around.

"So, uh, why am I here?" He asked simply, a confused tinge to his voice. Eckhart stopped for a bit, and he heard a tiny bit of laughter, before the black haired man turned around and handed him a cup of coffee.

"I saw you with Mikhail a few times. He tells me a lot about his friends – and how elated he was that you were showing an interest in plays. I didn't see him near you, so I was figured you came alone," Eckhart explained, taking a sip out of his cup. "He told me a lot about you, to be honest. How you were a slacker in school."

Hawkeye blinked his pale blue eyes, staring at the man with a blank look. "You… know … Mikhail…?"

"Oh- oh, yeah. I know him. We went to the same high school – he was one of my good friends. Him, Irina." He shrugged. "Lana out there was my ex. Obviously, no hard feelings."

"You went to Ereve High?" He blinked, idly scratching the back of his neck. "How come I never knew you?"

"Well, _you_ were the star athlete. _I_ was a theatre kid. Our paths would never connect in the first place." He shrugged. "Didn't stop me from coming to all your meets either way, although I had Mikhail to cover for me at them."

He thought back on his high school years – and vaguely remembered a thin black haired teenager with glasses, sticking around the blond class president …

"That was you? Mikhail wouldn't introduce me." Hawkeye frowned. "Said something about you being painfully awkward."

Eckhart's face flushed a bit and he coughed. "I wasn't _awkward_. I just didn't like to talk to people." He hid his face behind his coffee mug.

"So. Awkward, you mean." Hawkeye laughed a little at Eckhart's expression.

"W-well-" He coughed again, his face still tinted pink. "T-there was a reason for that, anyway."

Eckhart's flushed face reminded him of something. "You locked eyes with me during the performance." Hawkeye pointed out. "And then you flushed. Any reason?"

The black haired man's face was surprised. "You noticed? Oh god-" His face turned darker, and he placed the cup on the table in front of them. His slender hands covered his face and he sighed. "I thought the lights and makeup would hide it." He could feel the other man's embarrassment in waves.

Hawkeye stood up from his seat and pulled the man's hands from his face, peering at him curiously. "You find me attractive, hm?" He gave him a charming smile. "Good, we're on the same page."

Eckhart blinked up at Hawkeye, a look of confusion obvious on his face. "You find me…" _What_. He had a blank look on his face …

Hawkeye grinned. "Yer right I do. Damn, I wish Mikhail had introduced us back in high school." He let go of Eckhart's wrists, and his hands dropped to his sides. "It would make this a lot less awkward." You know, where Eckhart had his back pressed against the counter, and Hawkeye stood in front of him.

"Er- well-" He flushed, raising a hand to tug at his collar. "Could you … take a few steps back?" Eckhart coughed awkwardly. "I-it's…"

The orange haired man hummed. "Did you have a crush on me in high school?" Upon Eckhart's face flushing red, he grinned. "I'm right, hm? Perfect. That means I can do this without any repercussions." He leaned down and gave Eckhart a hard kiss on the lips. It lasted a few seconds, before he pulled away with a triumphant look.

"You're a lot cuter than you were in high school." Hawkeye hummed. "The glasses fit you though."

Eckhart took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. "Er- would you like to… go out for dinner? Next week? I'm free on, er… Wednesday and Thursday, if you'd like."

Hawkeye smiled down at the dark haired man. "Wednesday sounds fine. Send me a list of your future performances." He ruffled the actor's hair, before heading to the door. "And tell Mikhail to stop telling everyone about me, seriously."

Eckhart let out a light laugh. "Sure, sure. I'll forward that."


End file.
